


del escogido

by justlikeswitchblades



Series: ivy and concrete [6]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Fatherhood, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:00:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlikeswitchblades/pseuds/justlikeswitchblades
Summary: Shintarou never thought he could love anyone more than he did Daiki. But as life with Daiki has consistently proven, he's always found himself pleasantly surprised.





	del escogido

**Author's Note:**

> i thought i was calming down about this AU...but here we are

If Daiki has one significant talent outside of baseball, Shintarou is sure it’s his ability to adapt effortlessly when thrust into a new situation. 

He saw it back at Touou, wearing the roles of pitcher, ace, and captain like the glove he refused to throw out, fraying in some places, but snug and familiar. He saw it in Chicago, navigating the nightly drunken crowds around Wrigleyville with a laugh and a smile like he was just another fan. He’s seen it in Santo Domingo, coaches and players noticing the color of his skin and starting to talk to him in Spanish before looking at the name on the back of his jersey, starting to backpedal when he turned around to face them, though Daiki always responded with confidence no matter his level of fluency. (It seems like Daiki ended up loving the Central American players the best, picking up slang and old family recipes and the thin gold chain he wears around his neck.) And that's not all he picked up from the Dominican Republic.

Daiki had been trying to wear Shintarou down on the topic of kids since they were teenagers themselves; he babysat for Cubs vets, participated in all kinds of autograph events at suburban sporting goods stores, was happy to talk at length with any kid that recognized him when he was out on errands. Shintarou half-expected him to come home with an infant in his arms most evenings, and he probably wouldn't put it past Daiki, if adoption were that easy.

It's not that Shintarou disliked kids; sure, they can be loud, messy, germ factories, but he had a little sister of his own; he knows their humanity. It certainly wasn't an issue of money. It was an issue of being competent enough and confident enough, and then, how to deal with the logistics of coming or not coming out to the world beyond their families and their organizations, not wanting a potential trade to split up the family they wanted to create.

But then they found themselves on the same team with expiring contracts, bodies with a little more give, arms that didn't have much more power to draw from even if they elected for additional surgeries. They decided to just relax at their condo in the DR that offseason--no winter league this time--and well, they had to do something with that free time. A few visits to an adoption agency and some orphanages later, Shintarou found himself captured by a particular head of curly hair and a pair of dark brown eyes. (He never thought he could love anyone more than he did Daiki, and his life was wholly satisfying until that moment. But life with Daiki has consistently proven that no matter the changes, he's always found himself pleasantly surprised.)

“Okay,” Shintarou drops into a squat, patting the middle of his glove. “Right here, just like we talked about.”

The ball comes at Shintarou high, but drifts right, bouncing once and rolling in the grass before coming to a stop. Shintarou stands and takes a few steps to reach for it; little feet run up to meet him. 

“Sometimes you have to worry about putting too much power in, or else your pitch will be wild,” Shintarou drops to eye level again, smiling. “Why don't we try underhand this time?”

“I dunno, Daddy,” Jason pouts, swinging his arms. “I'm _tired._ ”

“It has been a busy day,” Shintarou agrees, standing up. “Let's go see if your father's back at the car.”

“Daddy?” Shintarou fights back a smile at the tone of voice.

“Yes, Jason?”

“Can you carry me?”

“That's a good question,” Shintarou crosses his arms, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “Don't you think you're a little old for that?”

Daiki says Jason inherited Shintarou’s pout; Shintarou has yet to concede, but at least they both agree that, at seven, Jason has mastered Daiki’s full-body sulk. Shintarou is no stronger against it, and he smiles, squatting again so Jason can climb onto his back. There's a twinge in his elbow; not as bad as it sometimes is, but it makes him exhale as he stands. 

Daiki walks into them when they're exiting the park, three water bottles in hand. 

“Sorry, someone stopped me for an autograph. Kiddo okay?”

“Yeah, he just says he's tired. Would your knee be okay for a few blocks? My elbow--”

“Of course,” Daiki agrees, and Shintarou squats, helping a protesting Jason off his back.

“It's okay Kiddo, I'll carry you back to the car,” Daiki hands the water bottles off to Shintarou. He starts to reach for Jason, but then stops, putting his hands on his hips.

“Did you say please when you asked Daddy to carry you?”

“Yes!” Jason chirps, looking back at Shintarou, who shakes his head. “Please!”

“Hm, okay. How about _Español?”_

_“Por favor!”_

_“Nihongo?”_

_“Onegai!”_

“That's my boy,” Daiki grins, ruffling Jason’s hair and putting his hat back on so the brim faces backwards; Shintarou can only roll his eyes and smile. Daiki hefts Jason into his arms, smacking a kiss against his cheek.

“ _Dios mio_ , Jay; you _are_ getting heavy!” Jason can only giggle in response, burying his face into Daiki’s shoulder. Shintarou is taller than Daiki; his stride carries him ahead naturally, save for years of Daiki learning how to walk faster to keep up. But he hangs back this time, watching the span of Daiki’s back, muscles still outlined through his t-shirt even though he's a few years into retirement. Jason is darker than Shintarou, but still paler than Daiki; his thin wrists provide a warm contrast against Daiki’s neck, already nodding off with the rhythm of Daiki’s walk.

He's dozing by the time they reach the car, undisturbed when he's buckled into his seat. His soft snores mix into the radio that Daiki keeps on low, his head bobbing, but still sleeping when they pull into the driveway.

“C’mon Jay,” Daiki’s voice is soft, reaching back and jostling his knee a little. “I don't want you running around when me and Daddy want to go to sleep.”

Shintarou laughs a little at that, smiling back at Jason, chin resting on the seat. He catches Daiki’s grin out of the corner of his eye, and looks at him; Daiki shakes his head a little, passing a hand over his (ever so slightly) receding hairline.

“When you look at him like that, I--” He sighs, smiling. “I don't even know what to say.”

Shintarou smiles a little wider; he leans over the center console, fitting his lips against Daiki’s.

“I feel the same.”


End file.
